Masquerade Ball:Prequel to OTVK
by Samyo
Summary: Completed.Please R&R. They were there to steal his portrait, but got more than they bargained for.
1. Not Fair

**Title:** Masquerade Ball: Companion to OTVK Series

**Rating:** PG-13

**Genre:** Drama/Angst/Romance

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**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, my stories about LXG suck; please don't sue!

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**Author's note:** It is not imperative to read the OTVK series, though it would be appreciated. However, if you happen to be reading those horrid, confusing stories, this is basically about the few hours before people started getting stabbed and shot and dying. In a way, this could stand alone, but I mostly did this because I can't wait any longer and I don't feel like updating vol. 2. Flaming, along with reviewing, is encouraged.

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There was no turning back, for even if they wanted, the crowd of people kept them from the door. It was too hard to tell friend from foe, for everyone wore masks. Joe Harper and Sawyer edged against the walls of the great ballroom, keeping careful eyes on the dancing couple of Skinner and Alejandra. A waltz was being played by the orchestra, seeming to enchant the entire room, and making the deception harder to see.

The ball was occurring at a fine hotel in Paris, the same hotel where Dorian Gray was staying, and hopefully, where his portrait was. Their mission was simple; get the portrait, leave, and destroy it. Alejandra was the bait in this great scheme; they all prayed that he would take it.

As the waltz ended, he appeared. He seemed to come out of nowhere, as if one of his new powers was the ability to disappear then reappear again. Sawyer and Joe could both see that he was heading toward their dancing couple; Alejandra and Skinner never heard their yells of warning.

"Never thought I would see you again, I didn't expect to see you alive, either." Alejandra wasn't startled; she had sensed him coming. She hated him; she hated him more than she hated the widow. If he wasn't immortal, she would…

"What, was hell not the party?" Skinner wished he had stayed in hell, that was his only opinion. Just looking at Gray made him sick to his stomach, and it was a test of willpower not to kill him, or at least, try to. If he were a normal mortal, Skinner would have killed him as soon as they rescued Alex.

"Maybe you would like to see hell for yourself."

"Your business is with me, not him." She felt like she was betraying Rodney, though this was part of Sawyer's plan. Skinner wisped her away, for a new dance was beginning. He whispered something in her ear.

"I'll be right behind you. If he pulls something…"

"He's coming…." Skinner managed to give her a kiss on the cheek; a feeling of it being the last came over him. He pushed it out of his mind, there was no time.

"May I have this dance?" It was a question, though it was more like an order. Gray held on to Alejandra in a way that made it impossible to escape. Before she knew it, she was on the other side of the grand ballroom.

Sawyer signaled Joe from across the room; the plan was in full motion. Skinner would be following Alejandra as Gray led her to his stateroom. He hated this part, Skinner hated this more, but there was no other to distract Gray. Joe and himself would get the portrait as quietly as possible. Luckily, the orchestra was almost at a blaring volume, which would be perfect for covering up the sound of possible gunfire.

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I don't like this plan at all, yet I find myself following Tom, as usual. They were all right; I am a coward. Me, Agent Joe Harper, following Sawyer into treason; do you need more evidence? Not only that, but I'm being ordered by the American government to keep an eye on him. Life isn't fair, it never will be. If life was fair, Huck and Becky would still be alive. If life was fair, I'd be somewhere else right now. If life was fair, Gray would have never of hurt Alex. God, if life was fair, Skinner would have found a cure and Alex would be able to have close relations without killing people.

It's raining; Paris isn't what it's supposed to be. Sawyer is sleeping, it isn't fair. He made this plan, yet he can sleep? I can't sleep, neither could Alex for a little bit. We talked, me and her; Skinner had fallen asleep.

"We need to talk." She scared the living hell out of me, for her tone made me feel like she was gonna kill someone. I saw her the night before, cleaning her knives and guns. They weren't here no more; she shipped them out last morning. She should have kept a small one, one small enough to hide under her gown. Even if Gray is immortal, you think shooting him could slow him down if you were in a tight spot.

"Even if this works," she started again, "you tell Washington everything. You tell them everything that has happened, everything. After that, you go somewhere far away, so far that Gray and his allies can't find you. Sawyer should have never dragged you along in the first place." I have every right in the world to be here; I'm the last thing from St. Petersburg Sawyer got. She's an outlaw from the West; she fell for Skinner after Sawyer convinced her to join. I got sick of it, I told her my mind.

"I have every right to be here as you; I even think I have more of a right to be here. I've known Sawyer since we were little kids, what do you have?" I thought I had her, but she's a smart one, no, a cunning one.

"Do you know how old I am?" I was shocked, for who asks a question like that? She took my silence as "no".

"At most, I'm only two years older than Sawyer." I didn't believe her, thought she was one of those women who lied about her age.

"Bull shit, you must be around Skinner's age." She gave me take look of her's, I was wrong.

"Crime ages, I guess you could say." She tried to smile, but it seemed more like a depressed look.

"Why shouldn't I be here?" I wanted an answer, I wanted one so bad.

"Because you still have your innocence." She left the room right after that, I didn't bother to follow, for she was right.

Skinner is a thief and invisible, though becoming invisible has nothing to do with losing your innocence. Alex is a thief, murderer, con-artist, ex-prostitute; she's lost her innocence indefinitely. Sawyer lost so many; he was forced to grow up.

Life isn't fair.

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Skinner was in a closet, turning completely invisible. It was a perfect place to keep his clothes, out of sight and dark. He didn't need to remove greasepaint, for his mask and hat covered all of his head.

He heard them coming down the hall, he would have to wait for them to pass; Gray could get suspicious with a closet door opening right in front of him with no one coming out. Gray knew about his "condition", no chance could be taken.

"God, I hope Alex knows what she is doing." Through the key hole, he saw them pass. Alejandra had sensed him; she took a glance at the door. Skinner was relieved that Gray didn't notice, and it gave him confidence that Alejandra knew that he was right behind her.

"It would be something if the league showed up right now," he thought quietly. Sawyer had been trying to get hold of them for; the chances were slim for a sudden miracle.

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He waited, he went; he was so close.

"A couple more hallways down, second on the right," Sawyer thought to himself. There was hardly anyone around, though they were probably at the party.

Doubt was filling every square inch of him; maybe the portrait wasn't here. There was suppose to be more security than this, maybe Alejandra's contact was wrong.

"The best place to hide something is right in the open."

"Her contact is right, for where it's hidden, it's somewhat in the open. God, can't believe I doubted Alice there for a second." He stopped, mid thought, for somebody was coming. Sawyer reached for his gun, ready to shoot. He turned around the corner, and found that it was only Joe.

"Hey, watch where you're pointing that thing!" Sawyer put his hand over Joe's mouth, fearing that someone had heard them. No one did; only a couple more hallways, second on the right.

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**Please review, though this sucks. That part about life not being fair was a Joe Harper flash back. I want to see Flight of the Phoenix so bad!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**


	2. Bloody Portrait

**Shout outs:**

**Sawyer Fan:** Fine, it doesn't suck, but it's going down hill. There, are you happy now? I'm joking, but seriously, the muses are punishing me, though Artemis Gray says that it's probably because it's Christmas break. LOL!

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The train wreck continues, or whatever you may call it that tickles your fancy.

I think Lady Norbert has died, for it has been a while since she has updated.

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"You've considered my offer, I take it?" He says this as he pours glasses of wine. I keep my distance.

"I've had time to consider, though leaving me for dead didn't help in my decision making." I can sense him grinning, as if he is deeply enjoying this.

"Come here," he orders with a gesture of his hand, "I got a surprise for you." I force myself to walk over to his side of the room.

I can't sense Rodney anywhere, where the hell is he?

He opens a box as I approach, I can't quite look inside for he is blocking my view.

"What's in it?" He moves away, more red diamonds are the only things I see. I can't believe it, how did he? They are the remaining jewels and earrings to the blood jewels.

"Once upon a time, there was a Transylvanian count that fell in love with a Gypsy princess." He ushers me to put on the earrings and remanding red diamonds. "As a gift, he commissioned for a grand diamond necklace, along with earrings, to be made. They say he got the diamonds from Africa, but these diamonds, I must say, weren't exactly the diamonds he wanted." I've heard this story so many times; where is Rodney?

"As legend goes, on the diamonds' return trip to Transylvania, the ship they were carried on was attacked by pirates. Very few of the crew survived, including the first mate. He was the first to notice this transformation. As he described it, the diamonds had somewhat drank blood. They were no longer sparkling, pure diamonds, but instead they were blood red." He holds me to him.

"Why are you telling me this, I've heard it so many times." He acts like he didn't hear me; he goes on.

"He gave the blood diamonds to the Gypsy princess, and she wore them everywhere. Everyone knew of the affair, except for the count's wife. One day however, during a siege by the Turks, he was murdered. His wife killed herself by jumping off the tallest tower, but the Gypsy princess and her family fled to the mountains. They were safe there; the Gypsy princess and her unborn child were safe there."

He knows, but how did he? I wish Rodney was here.

"So, when were you going to tell me that you are Count Dracula's many times over grand daughter?" He holds me tighter, but let's go.

"You never asked, and besides, it doesn't matter."

"But it does, it so very well does. You see, the count turned into a vampire, and turned the princess into one as well. Her own brother killed her, and the count cursed the Evanidus family. Besides almost wiping the family out by impalement, he cursed you all, a curse that will prevent you from having contact with Mr. Skinner even if you got cured."

Something has gone wrong, I have to leave.

"The only good thing about your bloodline, I suppose, are your good looks. Go look in the mirror, you look breathe taking." I don't know if he meant it as a pun, but my chances of leaving here alive are getting slimmer.

The mirror is above the fireplace mantle; I can see everything Gray is doing.

"So, what is your decision before I forget?" I see him pulling out a knife with liquid all over it; venom.

"What do think, Dorian?" It's all over the food, it's probably in the wine as well.

"Well, if I was in your current position meaning your touch kills and even if you were cured, you cursed them, I would choose me." I move over to a larger mirror a few feet away; Rodney is in the room.

"What would make you think that?"

He lunges toward me, throwing me into the mirror. Glass is everywhere; it's cut through my gloves which are now soaked with blood.

"I could have given you everything, but instead you choose something which that you can never have." He is wrong; I see a vase hanging in mid air.

Rodney hits him on top of the head with it.

"Alex, run!" Rodney yells.

Dorian has gotten hold of him; his nails are drawing blood from Rodney.

"Alex, for God's sake, run." I freeze, I can't leave him there.

Gray suddenly lets go; blood is running from his cheek. Joe and Tom must have the portrait.

Rodney pulls my arm; we're running down the hall.

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Alice is sort of Tom's girlfriend, like he hasn't had enough already. She's a blonde, Tom's grand weakness. I once followed them when they were taking a walk in London. I don't think Tom loves her, I think he's just playing her so she can help us. She's the one that's gonna exchange the portrait for Alex's cure; she's the one who's also gonna find a way to destroy it. I don't know why we don't just destroy it, but Alex needs the cure. She's sort of dying. There's something else, like destroying the portrait could make Gray invincible. I don't know. It isn't fair, I think.

Tom used to have a thing for Alex; he don't no more. He might, though I know he's jealous of her and Skinner. They have true love. Tom, I reckon, has never experienced that.

Skinner and Alex have true love, yet they could never get passed "Now you may kiss the bride" if they ever got married. Tom is one of those types who never knows true love until it's too late. Life isn't fair.

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It seemed to take Skinner forever to get to Gray's stateroom; there were just so many people standing in the hall.

"Damn it," it mumbled under his breathe. No one heard him, and if they did, they didn't care.

On his way to the room, he ran into a waiter, but the waiter thought he tripped over his untied shoelace. The waiter cursed in French while Skinner inched away.

He eventually arrived, and could sense danger right away. Her body language told him everything, from her expression to the way she held her wait.

He sprung into action as Gray threw her into the mirror.

"Jesus," he thought to himself as he reached for a nearby vase. He smashed the vase on Gray's head, temporarily stunning him.

"Alex, run," he screamed. She got up, but stalled when Gray grabbed his arm.

Skinner winced in pain as he felt Gray's nails protrude into his skin. He could see Alex's horror; he had do get her out of there. He tries to yell again.

"Alex, for God's sake, run." He would have said more, but the nails went deeper into his skin. Then, Gray let go.

"What the hell?" Blood was trickling down Gray's cheek; an invisible smile went across Skinners face.

"Smart one, Sawyer is," he thought. He didn't waste anymore time. He grabbed Alex and ran down the hall.

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The place where the portrait was kept did have a guard, but Joe and Sawyer were able to get rid of the guard quietly.

"Tom, where the hell did you learn to do that move?'

"Nemo taught me." Sawyer didn't go on, for this was not the time to reminisce about the past. Nemo had taught him a Taekwondo move that crippled enemies at the neck; Sawyer thought that he would never have to use it.

"Times change," he figured in his head.

Joe picked the lock of the room; when they entered, it was completely dark.

"Joe, light a match for Christ sake." Joe fumbled for a match in his pocket, and eventually found one. The light of the match seemed to light up the whole room, and also made it much more creepier. The spider webs seemed to be in the thousands, along with the occasional spider hanging from the ceiling.

"It looks like no one's been in here for years," Sawyer thought aloud.

"Think Alice was wrong, Tom." Sawyer shook his head "no" in reply.

"She said they would keep it right in the open; it should have a sheet over it." Sawyer turned around, and found a sheet covered in blood covering up an object shaped like a portrait.

"I'm not touching it." Joe moved even farther away from it to prove his point.

"Fine, I will; it's only a port…"

The portrait was even more grotesque than when Mina killed Gray. There was something else wrong with it; the blood from the sheet had come from the portrait.

"Alice is gonna have a fun time destroying this," Joe said with all the sarcasm Sawyer could stand. "Is that blood really coming from the portrait?"

"Only one way to find out." Sawyer removed a knife from his pocket, and prepared to stab it.

"Are you sure that's a good idea…?" Before Joe could finish, Sawyer had stabbed it. More blood oozed from it. Sawyer put the sheet over it again and moved toward the door.

"You coming, Joe?"

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Oh yes, I shall see Flight of the Phoenix onWednesday. The critics don't really like it, it sort of bombed, but I don't care. At one point, they randomly start singing "Hey Ya." I still think Lady Norbert is dead; may we have a moment of silence for her.

**Please review or I will use the word "sucks" a lot a lot. LOL!!!!!!!!!**


	3. Vision of Death

**Shout outs:**

**Sawyer Fan:** Yes, I know; it's been really quiet around here lately.

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I think who whoever is reading this now deserves the congressional medal of bravery for reading this horrific piece, but that is just my personal opinion (like that Clive Owen should be the next James Bond).

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They ran to the closet where Skinner kept his clothes, out of breath and out of time. Alejandra was already having trouble breathing, but it was probably caused by stress more than a venom attack. She was crying; she couldn't take it anymore.

Skinner wanted to comfort her, but he had to get his clothes back on so no one would get suspicious when they left.

"Like no one would notice her blood soaked gloves," he though to himself quietly. He turned to Alejandra as if he wanted to speak, but brought his attention back to his shoe which refused to get on his foot. He than realized that it was for his right foot, not his left, and the problem was easily solved.

Alejandra felt disgusted with herself; she couldn't take it anymore. She ripped off the blood jewels; earrings and all. Blood began to run from her earlobes, for the earrings had pierced her pale-skinned ears. She started to scratch herself with her nails protruding from her cut gloves; Skinner intervened.

"Alex, Alex!" Tears were flowing from her eyes as he shook her, trying to get her back to reality. "You got to pull it together."

"I can't take it anymore, I just can't."

"I know." He held her firmly until she settled down, taking the much needed breather at the same time. When she seemed settled down enough, he started moving her to the closet door.

"Just keep telling yourself that by tomorrow, we'll be on a ship heading for Alexandria." She tried to smile at Skinner's wishful thinking, but she new it would never happen. She had the vision of death.

When Alejandra was in the hallway, Skinner quietly grabbed the blood jewels and put them in his pocket. He didn't know if it was the right thing to do, but knew that Alejandra would want them back later.

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I can't take it anymore; I wish I could just scratch off and burn every single inch of skin on my body. Everything Dorian has touched, I don't want to be part of it anymore.

The blood jewels, I'll start with the blood jewels.

I rip them off and throw them to the floor. I rip out the earrings; I feel sharp pain and feeling the blood flowing down my skin.

I don't want my skin either; I start to scratch it off.

"Alex, Alex!" Rodney shakes me; if only he could understand. He has a look of horror; I don't blame him. "You got to pull it together."

He looks into my eyes; I just can't bear it.

"I can't take it anymore, I just can't." I speak the truth; I'll die before I have to take anymore of this.

"I know." He holds me firmly; all of that feeling goes away. I'm safe, I'm sane; I always feel like this when Rodney holds me.

"Just keep telling yourself that by tomorrow, we'll be on a ship heading towards Alexandria." I try to smile, but if only they believed. I know that vision was of my own death, a death that will come before the night is over.

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She had one of those so called "vision of death." I was dead asleep when Tom started to throttle me, trying to wake me up.

"Get the hell up, she's out cold again." Tom always called them that, as if he was trying to fool himself into thinking that they were something medical. We both ran to Alex and Skinner's room, Skinner was leaning over her. She was hardly breathing and as cold as a tub of ice. She seemed possessed; possessed by the devil himself. Then she started screaming and twitching all about.

"Help me," she screamed over and over again. We held her down so she wouldn't hurt herself. I held her down so she wouldn't hurt me. She stopped then, all of the sudden; she didn't breathe. Skinner started to cradle her in his arms, like it would bring life back into her again. I wasn't worried; I knew that she would start breathing again. I was scared as hell; what if she didn't?

She did, thank God, but starting crying again. She claimed that someone was stabbing her, no, that someone was gonna kill her. Sawyer gave that look to Skinner, but Skinner gave a more pissed off one back. Tom had a theory that they were caused by stress, but Skinner tried to always stay on Alex's side. Skinner thinks the same, for when Tom left the room, Skinner would show the "you're right look".

They aren't right, that's what I think. No one should have to live in the shadow of death; does the grim even like living in the shadow of death? Life ain't fair, anyway; no one deserves it.

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Sawyer and Joe took the backdoor, or at least some door that wasn't blocked by a crowd. They stayed in the shadows and ducked behind anything that would hide them; they were too close to success to fail. They were both filled with nervousness, or possible anxiety; the pressure to succeed was enormous.

"Tom, where's your girlfriend?" Tom was not in the mood to deal with this crap; it was too dark for Joe to see his annoyed look.

"She'll meet us." Under a distant street light, they saw her with a waiting carriage. Sawyer was glad to get rid of the portrait; it was getting heavier by the minute.

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I see Flight of the Phoenix tomorrow; I think I am obsessed.** Please read and review!**


	4. The Beginning of the End

I saw Flight of the Phoenix and it was awesome. This is the last chapter; it is very short. It wouldn't be right not to include this, for that has to be a bridge. I f you enjoyed this, I urge you to read Of the Vanishing Kind and it's sequel The Blood Jewels. Any ideas are welcomed. Anyone is free to e-mail me or put input in reviews.

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**Disclaimer:** Nothing has changed, I still own nothing.

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They were all walking down the street; Alice was long gone with the portrait. Fear seemed too creep in the shadows; death seemed to be behind every corner. Sawyer lead, Joe followed, Skinner tried to keep Alejandra from falling behind.

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I sense something, something bad. Someone is coming. 

A carriage approaches, I try to warm them.

"Sawyer," I scream as I sense the bullet going through the chamber.

The bullet doesn't hit its intended victim; I scream.

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Skinner grabbed Alejandra and went down a side ally; he knew that the plan worked too well.

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She gave me a passport before we left the inn, and gave about the same speech. I don't care anymore; I want to go home. I have a girl back in D.C. Her name is Amelie. Sawyer don't know about us, don't know that we're gonna get married. I proposed a few months ago and she wants me back.

Don't think I'll see her again; probably die before that. Rather die than go into hiding. Skinner doen't want to leave Alex. Thay hugged each other hard before we left the inn. Her condition is a shame; life isn't fair.

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With horror, Sawyer saw Joe's body slump to the ground. It was too much like Huck's death. He didn't check to see if Joe was still alive, he followed his instinct; to run.

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We're running, running…

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Ladies and gents, if you haven't read Of the Vanishing kind and enjoyed this piece, I direct you to the rated R section now. This was short, but I followed the KISS rule: Keep it simple stupid. 

**Special Thanks:** Artemis and Sawyer Fan, the only ones who care to read this. In two days, I'll work on vol. 2 again, for tomorrow I plan to work on my Napoleon Dynamite fic.


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